


Ailments

by Jamesneatojourney



Category: Chikara (Professional Wrestling), Professional Wrestling
Genre: Oleg is a little Asatru in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 08:06:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6321634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jamesneatojourney/pseuds/Jamesneatojourney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Devious Insect Overlords don't expect to get sick. So it's understandable that, when they do, they may overreact and assume that they are under attack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ailments

Ultramantis Black was in no way a heavy sleeper. The constant presence of metaphysical forces, good and bad, as well as his own rapid thoughts keep him on a constant shift between light sleep and being completely alert. 

So when Mantis awoke to a swirling fog of exhaustion, his head pounding and vision blurred and swimming, the panicked alert nature tried to take over.

He attempted to take a deep breath, but his throat cracked and his lungs burned as soon as he tried. Rapid, shallow breaths forced their way through him as a cold wave of fear took hold of him. His limbs felt so heavy, and every movement caused a deep bone-grating ache that left him in a cold sweat. The ceiling spun and he quickly shut his eyes, trying to take deep clear breaths. With his eyes closed, he now noticed the audible wheeze escaping his lips as he struggled to breathe evenly.

'Somethings wrong. My books. I have to get to my books.'

Mantis groaned through clenched teeth as he slowly rolled onto his side, the room again swirling into a blurry fog. He fisted one hand in the sheets and covered his mouth with the other, waiting for the clammy wave of nausea to pass before continuing to force himself to sit up. As soon as he was upright, he scanned the room for his staff. His books were most likely in his study, but with his staff Mantis could at least start to get an idea of what was happening to him. His staff was one of his most important tools, its helps him center himself and helps him focus during his work, magic or otherwise. Aside from the period of time when Ophidian had stolen it from him, his staff was always in the same room as him if not at arms reach.

So, understandably enough, the pit in his stomach twisted roughly when there was no sign of it in the room at all.

'No. nonononono.' 

Mantis forced himself onto his feet too fast, taking a moment to let the blinding headrush pass before shuffling forward. He willed himself to ignore the sharp pins and needles he felt in his legs as he slowly inched across the room.

'where is it? who has it?'

Mantis reached the far wall of the room and leaned heavily against it. The wall was freezing against Mantis’ flushed, sweaty skin. He was so tired, the bed was still only a few feet away and yet it had taken a world of effort just to make it across the room. After a few shaky breaths Mantis’ legs started to buckle and he did little to stop it, sliding uselessly down the wall until he was sitting on the floor only feet away from the cracked doorway.

Mantis glanced towards the bed he came from and paused. Only now realizing.

'That is not my bed'

True enough, the bed was a king sized mattress, with a heavy, old looking iron bed frame. An additional wave of nausea and cold sweat washed over Mantis at the sight of the many, very authentic looking, fur blankets covering the bed.

The sense of shame Mantis felt, knowing that, mere moments ago, he was sleeping in a pile of animal skin made him gag, forcing himself to tear his sight away from the bed and towards the rest of the room.

How did he not notice this when he first woke up? It was not only the bed that was not his own, the room itself bared no resemblance to his own home. 

'How did I get here? Where am I?'

Mantis tried desperately to focus, his eyes half lidded and so incredibly heavy. The cottony fog behind his eyes got worse as he lifted his head away from where it was slumped against the wall, only to have it fall right back, this time the full weight of his head smacking his left temple against the wall. He groaned, hot pain streaking behind his eyes and making even his teeth ache. He held his eyes closed, desperately trying to replay the events that led to him being in such a place. 

Seconds later, a reverberating thud ran through the floor, then another. His eyes flew back open at the sudden realization,

Footsteps.

Mantis froze, holding his breath with wide terrified eyes.

'I’m helpless like this. There is no possibility of me being capable of self defense in my current state.'

The steps got closer until Mantis could feel their heavy thuds approaching the door. When they abruptly stopped,Mantis looked up weakly, waiting to see who it was that had undoubtedly come to finish him off. 

Suddenly a tangled mop of brown hair poked into the room, looking towards the empty bed. A pause, then the figure entered the room in entirety.

Mantis furrowed his brows in confusion, fear for the moment being placed on standby. 

'Oleg?'

The large man was dressed differently than what Mantis had come to expect. Not equipped for battle, he was wearing a loose fitting Brown tunic and black pants. Through the low cut of his tunic, Mantis could clearly see Oleg's necklace, a polished mjolnir pendant. Such a delicate piece of jewelry was such a harsh contrast to the man willing to gleefully take a sword into wrestling ring, but Mantis willed himself to ignore that. For now, Mantis realized that Oleg was looking for him.

The poor thing didn't see Mantis crumpled on the floor, and had quickly hurried to the bed, shuffling through the many blankets before crouching to look underneath. Mantis slowly took a deep breath and, in a voice weak enough to surprise himself, tried to get his attention.

“Oleg”

The large man continued to hastily dig around beneath the bed, loudly pushing aside whatever metallic items he stored under there. 

'Not loud enough'

He took a deeper breath and tried again, a little louder,

“Oleg, I’m over here”

The viking’s head perked up and he whipped his head around, his large eyes full of worry. As soon as he saw Mantis, that look of fear was still there, but relief was evident. He quickly approached Mantis and dropped to a knee beside him.

“Brother! There you are. You must return to bed.”

Mantis eyed him nervously, still pitifully slumped against the wall, breathing heavily and visibly sweating. 

'Is this Oleg’s home? How did I manage to get here?'

Mantis placed a clammy hand on Oleg, who quickly grabbed it and held it in his own

“Oleg, Something is wrong, but I must get to my books so I can figure out what it is.”

Oleg eyed him intently, cocking his head at Mantis’ request. He did not let go of Mantis’ hand.

“Nay, your reading must wait. You must rest for now brother, until you are well.”

Mantis huffed and gripped onto Oleg tighter, pulling himself away from the wall and leaning closer, hoping to seem a bit more imposing.

“I am clearly under the attack of some sort of dark magic. One that I am not familiar with. I cannot focus, and I can feel my own faculties straining under the simplest of tasks. I need my books in order to figure out how to stop it.”

Oleg blinked, then narrowed his eyes at Mantis’ words.

“Brother. You are ill. This is not the work of sorcery, or any form of dark magic. You fell ill during a meeting of the Arcane Horde. Obariyon and Kodama are preparing you a meager feast of greens as we speak. You have but a cold.”

Mantis looked at the floor, thinking intently. He can’t actually place the last time he was ill. After years of being victim to magical attacks and various supernatural entities, Mantis never considered that he’d fall victim to his own body’s weakness.

“A cold? You are certain?”

A nod, Oleg’s curls lightly bouncing off his shoulders,

“On my word, it is but a cold. And rest will do you good, yes.”

Mantis nodded slowly, 

"Very well."

His eyes hesitantly went back to the pile of fur blankets hes expected to lay in. His throat tightened and he looked back to Oleg with nervous eyes,

“Do you…have any blankets that were not trophies of a hunt? I just— I can’t–”

Oleg’s eyes widened and he quickly nodded,

“My apologies brother! I had forgotten of your ways. I will gladly fetch them, yes. Give me a moment.”

Without any hesitation, he released Mantis’ hand and quickly moved to the bed, clearing the blankets off and tucking them away in a large chest at the foot of the bed. He hurried out of the room, but returned a moment later with armfuls of linen blankets. Various shaded of tan, white, and brown blankets were draped onto the bed and layered on top of one another.

Oleg turned to Mantis, a proud smile in place,

“They are heavy and should work well to keep you warm.” 

Before Mantis could thank him Oleg bent down and scooped him up off his spot on the floor.

Mantis yelped and clung onto Oleg’s neck. He was still so shaky and tired, that the abrupt movement took him by surprise. Oleg carefully set him back down onto the bed and pulled the heavy, but surprisingly comfortable, blankets back over him.

“…Thank you Oleg. I appreciate your accommodation. My staff, is it with Obariyon and Kodama?”

Oleg smiled and nodded,

“Of course, they were sure to not let it get left behind.”

Mantis sighed,

“Good. They understand its importance more than most.”

Oleg rose and started towards the door, his heavy steps shaking the delicate trinkets that sat on the shelves of his room. When he reached the door, he turned once more to face Mantis,

“Rest now Brother, there will be food ready when you awake. You are in good hands, your safety as our leader is my own task to maintain, and by the blessing of the gods I shall see it done.“

Oleg turned and left the room, shutting the door gently behind him.

Mantis stifled a yawn and settled into the linen blankets, rolling onto his side to face away from the door. His eyes slowly began to flutter shut, but Mantis kept them open the best he could, he wanted to catch a last glimpse of Oleg’s room first. If he is commandeering the man’s room, he should at least catch a glimpse of what it looks like before sleeping.

A glance at the nightstand beside the bed and Mantis noticed his own prayer beads coiled in front of a small altar. Even in Mantis’ tired state, he could still translate the runes carved into the candle burning in the center.

‘Eir, the goddess of healing. How considerate.'

The delicate light from the candle shined off his black prayer bead necklace and worked quickly in lulling mantis to a gentle sleep. The sight of his beads, as well as Oleg’s own altar made specifically to aid Mantis’ recovery made him relax even moreso into the large bed. Sighing, he shut his eyes and allowed himself to be taken by sleep.

When Delirious had torn everything from him, Mantis didn't know if he’d ever have this sort of kinship again. This feeling of safety and security, he was certain that both had been forever stolen from him just as Hallowicked and Frightmare had been.  
How humbling for it to take something as mortal as physical illness to prove the great sorcerer wrong.

Ultramantis Black was in no way a heavy sleeper, but peace of mind works wonders.


End file.
